Lord What's His Face
by Beatific Assassin
Summary: Inspired by one of my favorite scenes from 'The Lion King.' Lupin and Snape have a little confrontation during an Order meeting. Post-OotP.


Title: Lord . . . What's-his-face

Author: Beatific Assassin

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Humor

Summary: Inspired by one of my favorite scenes from 'The Lion King.' Lupin and Snape have a little confrontation during an Order meeting. Post-OotP.

Author's Notes: I'm weird. My writing style is weird. Therefore, this story is weird. Please grasp this concept fully before continuing.

I own neither Harry Potter nor The Lion King. Hence the lack of money on my part.

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The Order of the Phoenix is a great organization, don't get me wrong. However, being surrounded by a dozen or so people who are yelling at each other while crammed into a small underground kitchen isn't all that great. And when it's the morning after a full moon and all I want to do is curl up on the sofa in front of the fireplace and sleep, the whole thing is even less great.

"We can't just leave him there!" Arthur Weasley was saying, face slightly red as he argued with someone. I probably should have been paying more attention, seeing as I hadn't a clue who he was arguing with or what they were arguing about, but I was so _tired_. "That family of his . . . they hate him! You should see the way they treat him when he's there!"

"You know about the blood, Weasley," Snape retorted. "He's safe as long as he's there."

They were obviously talking about Harry, fighting over where he should spend the summer. I forced myself to remain alert.

"Since when have you had the least bit of concern for Harry? And do you honestly think he wouldn't be safer with fully-trained wizards than with those Muggles? They couldn't care less about his welfare!"

"'Those Muggles' are the last thing standing between Potter and the Dark Lord himself!"

They continued like this for a while. I sat there, elbows on the table, chin resting on both hands, fighting a losing battle against fatigue. I followed the argument with my eyes, looking back and forth between each speaker, much like a spectator viewing a game of ping-pong.

For God's sake, go away and let me _sleep_.

I must have dozed off at some point, because I was jolted awake when my chin slipped off my palms. Everyone turned to look at me, and I felt my cheeks flush. _Dammit. Just go back to your arguing; I'll pay attention, I swear . . ._

"Are you all right, dear?" Molly asked, motherly concern etched on her kind face.

"I'm fine, thanks." _Stop looking at me like that, all of you!_ An expression of realization dawned on Snape's pale face, then a twisted smile.

"Suppose you were up late last night? Lovely moon, eh?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. Lord, how I loathe that man.

I felt my face going crimson as every other person in the kitchen gave me sympathetic or pitying looks.

"Well, at least I've got an excuse for my behavior. Unlike someone who acts like a total ass for no reason." I'd blurted out my retort before I realized what I was doing.

Arthur made an unsuccessful attempt at stifling a chuckle, Molly tried her best to give me a reprimanding glare (though failed miserably), while Kingsley Shacklebolt gave a deep, booming laugh and clapped a hand to my shoulder.

"Attaboy! Stick up for yourself!" Mundungus Fletcher said with a grin.

Snape fixed me with an expression of utmost distaste, obviously trying to think up a scathing reply to my outburst.

"You're not the only one capable of spouting off childish insults," I reminded him, offering an innocent-looking smile.

"Clearly," Snape answered, "but how would anyone have known before now? You've always had someone else to do the talking, so you could stand back and not take any of the blame for anything."

I doubt that having one of your eyes twitch is ever a good thing.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that poor little Lupin never had to worry about anything as long as he had Potter or Black at hand, always ready to save his ass."

Maybe it was the mention of Sirius that set me off, there was no other explanation for what I did.

Knocking my chair over as I stood quickly (making my head spin wildly as I became violently dizzy), I strode over to where Snape stood, growled out "You impetuous little bastard," and delivered a right hook to his left eye.

Not to sound conceited, but my right hook has always been beautiful.

Molly immediately seized me by the collar of my robes and dragged me to the kitchen door. "Not to say what you did was wrong, dear, but I've always thought of you as a positive role model for my children. I can't have you beating the snot out of one of their professors."

I nodded stiffly and left the room feeling somewhat relieved. No more dealing with any of them today. I was going to get my well-needed and very much desired sleep. I started toward my bedroom.

"Lupin."

No. Why? No. Crap!

I let out a long sigh. "What do you want, Snape?" I didn't bother to try to hide the aggravation in my tone.

Snape just stood there for a while, obviously fighting some inner battle. "I'm . . . uh . . ."

"Stupid?" I offered, earning myself a sneer. "Worthless? Disgusting? A rat bastard? A horrid shell of a person with little or no emotion?"

"I'm sorry," Snape mumbled, almost inaudible.

What the _hell_?

"Molly made you say that, didn't she?"

Another sneer in response.

"Are we finished? I'm tired." I turned to leave before giving him a chance to answer.

"What I said was out of line."

I turned once again, now facing him. "No shit."

"What Bl- Sirius did was noble and I respect him for it."

"Good. Not everyone can stand against Voldemort's followers like he did."

Snape shuddered visibly. "Don't say that name."

"What? Voldemort?"

He shuddered again.

"Voldemort," I said again, my voice a harsh whisper. I took a few steps closer to Snape. "Voldemort Voldemort Voldemort!"

Twitching convulsively, Snape managed a quiet "Stop that!"

"Vol . . . demort."

I closed in on my prey. He reeked of firewhiskey. I knew I'd smelled alcohol in the kitchen, with my senses still heightened from the previous night's activities, but I had assumed it was Dung.

Shit! Was Snape . . . giggling? What the hell?

"Voldemort," I repeated, then watched in shock as Snape doubled over in laughter.

"Do it again!"

I gave an incredulous "Voldemort."

"Ooh, it makes me tingle!"

I need to get away from this man. As soon as is humanly possible.

Upon Snape's demands, I continued to spout off the overlord's name in various states of half-heartedness. My game wasn't as fun as it had been before. Now it was disturbing.

Severus Snape was a deeply disturbed man.

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Thanks!


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